


Hunting

by Aitheria_Iah



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:21:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aitheria_Iah/pseuds/Aitheria_Iah
Summary: When our military come home they don't expect to find another battle for them to fight. But that is exactly what happened to Layton Busvel when he returned home for a holiday leave. Just what will this hard trained military man going to do when his wife is taken from him.Read and find out.





	Hunting

**Author's Note:**

> I have never been in the military and I do not pretend to understand how hard it is and how mentally taxing it can be on a person. I hope that no one thinks that I am making myself out to be an expert on something that I have no idea. This is a story that I wrote for one of my English classes and I thought that I might post it here for others that WANT to read it. 
> 
> that's all.

Preparing to leave the base for his holiday leave filled Layton with a feeling of relief he would never regret joining the army. However, the time he gets to be home and spend time with his wife is something that would never be dull for him. The fighting, war, and explosions were left behind in Syria and Lebanon. Even if he continues to hear the blast of explosives, he just wanted to hold his wife and breath in her gentle lavender perfume and kiss her. Strangely he hadn’t gotten a letter from her in a month, but he didn’t try to worry. He didn’t get where he was in the military by losing his cool at everything that didn’t go his way. Besides it wasn’t too much on him to take the bus home to meet his wife at their home.

Walking out of the gate, a call of his name got him to turn around.

“Busvel, Busvel! Hold on a minute.” It was Private First Class Olivander Debar. They had never really talked much, but they got along when they were working in the same units. It was still a surprise when Debar called out for him to stop.

Turning around, Layton adjusted the strap on his shoulder while waiting for Debar to catch up to him; “What is it?” Layton’s tone was neither overly friendly nor cold, with barely a hint of his English accent. Hearing his own voice reminded Layton of his childhood back in England. Layton shook his head to clear it and focus on the present.

Debar had thrust a cream white, colored envelope into his face. It was a simple rectangle. He flipped it to the front to see there was no return address, only his name in block lettering. Something in his gut tightened, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He continued to be cautious, making sure that he had gloves on, even if they weren’t latex, before opening the letter.

The contents of the envelope had his breath hitching in his throat. He forgot all about his surroundings when he saw what was in the envelope. It was a polaroid picture, a picture of his wife Sinthia. He could see on the picture that there was a bruise forming on her jaw and her arms were pulled behind her back. The rope around her wrists were doubled knotted, and her lips were twisted into a grimace. Someone had taken his wife! Layton gritted his teeth, keeping his temper barely in check. Whoever had done this would learn just why no one messed with Layton William Busvel. They would rue the day that they weren’t man enough to confront him and had to take his wife from their home.

He then read the letter that was also in the envelope.

**You bastard. Thinking that you can do what you did, and nothing would happen to you! You took her from me and now I am going to take her from her. I will ruin all the happiness in your life just like you did to mine. Everything that happens to her is your fault. Your FAULT! You should have left me and mine alone but since you didn’t this is what you have to live with. I am not stupid and know that you will find me. The only question I have is will you find me before your darling Sinthia is dead or not? Will you? I can’t wait until she is sobbing your name as she dies. Dies with the knowledge that you DID NOT save her!**

**See you in hell.**

Layton was seeing red. This man, this monster was threatening his wife. He was taunting Layton to hunt him down like an animal; and he will. Layton swore to himself that if it was the last thing he did in this world was hunt this creature down and take revenge for his wife he would. But, first he needed to get control of himself again. Think about this without his emotions getting in the way. Looking at it as if he were an outsider, he would start with all those who it could be he had angered. The problem: that was a long freaking list. Damn.

In a quick bout of anger, Layton crushed the note in a clinched fist. If he had been able to see himself, he would shrink back in trepidation. His eyes were black as an abyss. His sharp jaw was clenched. His forehead was scrunched up in a scowl.

Debar took a quick step back at Busvel’s turn of emotions. He had never seen the man so angry, so quickly and was stunned.

_‘What happened to him?’_ was the only thought in Debar’s mind.

Olivander straightened himself and gathered his wits before opening his mouth. “Everything alright, Busvel? Is there anything I can do?”

The southern twang from Debar’s voice caught his attention. He shoved the note in his jeans front pocket, but slipped the picture in his back so that way it wasn’t ripped or damaged. He shook his head back and forth rapidly trying to get his thoughts in order.

“Um . . . no, no that’s okay. It was just a letter that confused me. I’ll take care of it.” He started forward, like before, but this time his back was stiff. His steps were at a 4/4 rigid tempo. He didn’t turn around as he left. “I’ll see you in two months, yes.”

Debar couldn’t keep up with Busvel as he walked away. “Two months? Just how did he get that much leave when I can barely get two weeks.” He’s mouth was set in a quizzical frown, as he shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well,” he turned around to walk back to his room.

•••

He barely paid any attention to those around him as he got on the bus. Of course, he was able to control himself enough to know what was going on around him so as not to be rude. Though he didn’t go out of his way to speak to any of the other passengers, but when the driver asked how he was and tried to make conversation like usual he responded. Except, he was sure that John Stewie, the bus driver, knew that he wasn’t himself and didn’t take offense to his standoffish behavior. It took twenty minutes for him to get where he wanted to be.

“I’m getting of here today, John.”

John looked back in the rearview mirror, “Ya sure, Layton?”

Layton nodded his head while grabbing his bag off the seat beside him. “Yeah. Sinthia is . . . visiting family and won’t be back for another day. I had intended to surprise her before I remembered that she won’t be home tonight, so I thought I’d get somethings done before heading home.” Lying wasn’t hard for him to do. All he had to think about was what would happen to his beloved wife if anyone found out what he was doing.

There was a skeptical look in John’s hazel eyes, but he smiled easily and just stopped when he was supposed to. “See ya around Layton. Keep yourself outta trouble.”

Stepping down onto the paved sidewalk, Layton didn’t look back at the bus driver as he spoke. “Sure thing. See you around.” He walked off down the road while the bus pulled away to continue with its journey. Layton walked towards a back alley which led into a world that a respectable military man shouldn’t be around, except he had never avoided the underground world. His childhood years of being overlooked by his parents taught him how to gather information and how much others could listen in for him, all for a certain price. He walked into a back entrance of a building that looked like it needed a lot of TLC. It was a bar for those of questionable intentions and named Odin’s Ravens. He pulled his trench coat out of his bag while he was still in the back. He didn’t need anyone here to be able to identify him.

Walking towards the far corner of the bar, he passed by working girls and their clients as if they were beneath his notice, The drug deals that were going on at table five weren’t any of his concern. No, he was here for those two twins behind the bar, pouring drinks and not saying a thing. But it was their eyes that brought him there. They didn’t look any older than twenty-five. Their skin was a deep olive and hair as black as the abyss. He knew they were just as foreign as he was in Tennessee. Ashton and Aspen Bianchi were from Siracusa, Italy. Ashton was the eldest and his eyes were a light caramel brown that were almost as blank as Layton’s own obsidian eyes. His facial expression never changed. At a simple height of five feet and seven inches, he blended into the background which made him perfect for gathering information for the right price. Aspen, however, was a gorgeous woman that used her easy smile and sparkling green eyes to get hardened criminals to spill their secrets to the Italian immigrant.

He barely sat down on the stool. With one foot on the ground and the other lightly placed on the stool, he leaned over the counter. “Do you have anything that I could want?”

He didn’t want to immediately accuse anyone. If he was wrong even a little bit, it could get back to his wife’s kidnapper. That was unacceptable. Ashton looked on before serving the drinks. Layton had known before even getting to Odin’s Raven that Ashton wouldn’t speak here. Now, though, they knew that he needed information. If they didn’t have anything now, they would be on the lookout for what he wanted.

These two were good at their job. Aspen crossed her arms under her bust, shoving her breast together and up, gaining the attention of many men in the bar. “Hey good looking, how about you stick around for a little while.”

Code: _**too many around, and some work for who you’re looking for.**_

She slides a rum and coke his way. He understood what she was doing and sipped at his drink. Sitting back and doing nothing at that moment would get him more information than walking out to come back later. He was trained to use every opportunity that was given to him. If there was even one man in this building that knew who took his wife and where she was, then he would find out.

Nothing mattered to him more than finding his wife. She was his everything. He was willing to give up everything to get her back. He blocked out the cries of pleasure from the back tables off to the right of him and ignored the crash from two alcoholics starting a fight near the front entrance. The two idiots had tipped the table over sending glasses to floor. Layton only gave them a brief, disinterested glance before turning back to the rest of the room’s occupants. That drug deal looked to have gone well, since the buyer was passed out. There was also a disposable syringe sitting next to a lighter and what looked like a fake watch glass which Layton remembered from chemistry class.

These people were the bottom of the barrel, and yet they were filled with knowledge and information that people would kill for. Well, he certainly would. Everyone ignored them as unimportant. Not censoring themselves and what they say around them. They think that these people were simply to drunk or high to pay any attention to what they were saying. Underestimation was key to gaining information in places like this. Learning your strength and making sure that no one else knew was something that Layton learned and took with him into the military. He made connections and learned where to and where not to stick his nose when he needed to get his hands dirty.

“Would you like any food sir?” Aspen asked. She was carrying a tray of four empty drink glasses past him, back behind the bar from where she came to get the dishes.

Layton looked at her briefly in the eyes. That deep color of sea green reminded him of his wife’s eyes and made him miss the deep ocean blue of his wife’s eyes. “No, I’m fine. You can continue on with whatever you’re doing.”

Her smile was coy and obviously fake, to him at least. “Alright sir, just holler if you need anything.”

Time seemed to pass slowly for Layton. That could be due to his thoughts focusing only on Sinthia. He wanted to find her as fast as possible to ensure that her kidnapper didn’t have time to hurt her anymore, than they had so far. Before he knew what was happening, Aspen had grabbed a hold of his arm. He didn’t resist as she yanked him to his feet and pulled him along to the back rooms. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, Layton realized that three hours had passed since he first sat down. Ashton had remained behind the bar filling orders and taking care of those that came in. Layton knew what the image was, that he and Aspen portrayed at that moment.

He was finally allowed to stand on his own feet when Aspen stopped to open the door. It was an old wood board door, no smooth finish or paint. The handle was a plain old brass knob that had a key lock, Aspen had to pull the key from around her neck. The chain was long enough that the key rested against her stomach down her shirt.

‘ _That’s one way to keep the key from them_ ,’ Layton thought as he made his way into the room. The room was filled with the bare minimum. There were two chairs upholstered with a brown leather fabric that was surprisingly comfortable to sit in. The couch was an L-shape lounge type of couch with soft charcoal fabric. In the center was a coffee table that came about mid-calf when Layton stood next to it. He dropped himself into a chair. Sitting forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and his hands were interlocked under his chin. Layton stared into Aspen’s eyes. He was known for his patience and that wasn’t about to change. This had unnerved enough people for Layton to know that his stare wasn’t something people wanted on them.

Aspen just leaned back on the couch crossing her ankles. “We heard about your wife getting kidnapped a day ago. Well at least they were talking about someone who was planning on doing it.”

“Who.” He wasn’t asking.

Aspen simply smirked. “You know info isn’t free.”

Layton scowled at her. “We’ve done enough business for none of this to be new to me or you. You’ll get your money after I get my wife.”

She only sighed. She flipped her hair over her shoulder.“Elijah Mallur.”

 

Layton thought on the name, Mallur. Where had he heard that before . . . Oh, he remembered. Jessica Mallur had been a victim of domestic abuse with a son. She had died eight years ago today. It had been before he enlisted and was still in high school. They were his neighbors. He called the police when he heard a kid screaming. Elijah was three years younger than him and would now be twenty-two. Thinking back to that night when Elijah’s father, Christopher, killed his mother, Jessica reminded him of the second time he saw Elijah. It was at the court house and he had been called to testify against Christopher. Coming out of court, Elijah had screamed at him that if he knew what was going on, Layton should have done something sooner. If he had, his mom would still be alive. Layton had told Elijah he was old enough, fourteen at the time, to know what was wrong and right and should have gone to the police himself. He should stop blaming him for his own mistakes.

That had been eight years ago. That little punk had decided to take his wife because he was still blaming Layton for his mom’ death. Well he had just decided to sign his own death certificate, because Layton would kill him for even thinking about touching Sinthia.

“Do you have an address?” This time it wasn’t a demand, since Aspen at least got him a name.

She dislodged her hair from her shoulders as she shook her head in a negative. Layton sighed as he dropped his head to his chest. He grabbed his bag from the floor where he dropped it. He stood and headed towards that door. “You’ll get your payment within a week if not sooner.” He knew better than to give them a more definite time frame.

“It was a pleasure like always, Layton Busvel.”

He paused for a single second. “Don’t try to be creepy it doesn’t work if you try too hard.” Then he left.

He marched out with a purpose. There was nothing left for him at Odin’s Raven. He had a name. Now he needed a location. That required a plan. Especially since he wanted to find his wife. Then move on with his life so that would require him to not get caught doing anything illegal. Where could he go that would offer him anonymity. There were internet cafés closer to his house. Working at a cafe would require his laptop and someone might find out through back tracking his IP. That wasn’t going to work. He continued to think on his problem, while ignoring anyone trying to stop him for whatever reason. He passed a group of children when something caught his attention. He had a light bulb moment. Children weren’t anything that he would care about in that moment, but the public library card that was peeking out of the little boy’s backpack was of interest. The library had computers and they offered some privacy.

He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. If only his aloof, image conscious parents could see their “pride and joy” now. Going to the library to hack into Elijah Mallur’s life and hunt him down like an animal and kill him for what he’s done. His father would have paid him attention, if only to beat him black and blue for risking their reputation like this. He never did care much for that beloved aristocratic reputation that his parents had. Thoughts of those people didn’t stay long, Layton had work to do.

•••

Layton was in luck. The library wasn’t very busy at that time. There were plenty of computers away from others with the blinders around the desk, so that no one could look at what he was doing. Finding a way around the computer blocks wasn’t any harder than it was when he was sixteen. Finding Elijah’s information was even easier now, only taking him only thirty minutes to get everything done. Thirty minutes to get around the computer blocks, get his information, erase everything that could link him to even being there, and then leaving. He was ready to find his wife and bring her home. He finished at just the right time. It was now eight o’clock and the library was closing soon. Just the idea that it was still the same day was slightly daunting. It felt like forever since he had last since his wife and discovered that she was taken. In reality, it had only been about six hours. He walked for about fifteen minutes before finding a bus stop. He hoped that a bus would be coming soon. Sadly, a bus didn’t show up until it was eight forty-five – almost an hour after he got to the stop. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers and all that right?

“Where to, sir?” the bus driver asked.

Layton paid while answering, “1497 Baethum Avenue.”

He walked to the back of the bus. He checked the inside of his bag. There it was. His Glock 43, 9mm. He checked the magazine to see that it was full. He was going to make sure that Mallur didn’t get out of this alive. This one was one that he had gotten from Ashton awhile back. It wasn’t registered in either of their names since it was bought from the black market. This gun had made its way through so many different pawn shops and buyers it would take too much time for anyone to trace it to the two of them. Layton closed his eyes to concentrate on maintaining his control. Even though the end was close, he knew it would still be about thirty minutes to get to the address. Layton had a little thought that he might just end up killing Elijah at the same time of day Christopher had killed Jessica.

•••

Hearing a ding pulled Layton out of his thoughts. Looking around he say that this the area that he wanted to be in. He stood up with his bag on his shoulder and walked towards that door. He nodded his head when the driver asked if he was sure that he wanted to get off here. Thanking him, Layton started walking off. He made sure to check street signs so that way he didn’t get lost.

There it was. The house looked normal. The outside was brick. The two windows on the front of the house had brown shutters one on each side. There was a small step up to the front door with a small flower bed off to the left of the small porch. There was a metal fence around the back around. There was even a 2003 silver Toyota Previa sitting in the driveway that was barely hanging on.

‘ _How did that pass inspection?_ ’ Layton had a passing thought. Before scowling, ‘ _Did he drive my Sinthia in that death trap?_ ’

He slipped around the back of the house, Making sure that no one saw him, he looked for a way into that house. Hopping that back fence wasn’t hard with his military training. Finding a spot as to not crunch leaves on the ground was tedious, but not impossible. Once that was done, Layton checked the back door. Elijah was apparently an idiot because the back door was unlocked. Making his way through the house Layton listened for any noise. There was a thumping coming from a room. He crept further in. Coming across an open door, he leant in to see what had caught his attention. There, in the center of the room, was his wife.

The bruise on her cheek was darker than it had been in the picture he was sent. Her ocean blue eyes were puffy and red, so she had been crying. Her curly blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a messy pony tail. He couldn’t tell if she had pulled it up or not. He could see the red color around her wrist and her ankles where they were tied with ropes. She was jerking at her ropes, which was causing the chair to lift off the ground. Apparently this is the thumping he heard. A stomping came down the hall at a rushing rate. Layton flattened himself against the wall while Elijah stomped his way into the room like a bull in a china shop.

“Would you stop that, you bitch!” He snapped.

Sinthia snarled, “if you hadn’t been a pansy and faced my husband like man, neither of us would be having to go through this.”

“Like you understand anything.” Elijah started towards Sinthia with his fist raised.

Layton flipped the safety off before stepping into the room. When Sinthia suddenly smiled Elijah jerked around looking for whatever it was that caused it. Seeing the man he wanted to get revenge against, he opened his mouth to start ranting. Apparently, he didn’t see the Glock in Layton’s hand. Elijah didn’t even bring a knife to this gun fight.

“You signed your own death certificate by attacking my wife, Mallur.” He raised his gun and aimed for Elijah’s heart. A look of fear entered Elijah Mallur’s plain brown eyes as he took a step back. “May God have mercy on your soul, because I sure as hell don’t.” With that as his last words, Layton pulled the trigger.

He didn’t even wait for the body to hit the ground as he rushed to cut his wife free. He pulled her into his embrace, and held on just as tightly as she did. Pulling back slightly to lift her head to look her in the eyes. “Let’s go home, love.”

She smiled. “Yeah. Let’s go. I had plans to Skype with Raelyn and she’ll be worried.”

They both ignored the dead man and walked out. Layton loved his wife, she knew everything about him and still loved him. She wasn’t running in the other direction seeing her husband kill a man without a second thought. No, she walked right beside him talking about what his sister wanted. Yeah, he would kill anyone and everyone for her, and she would stay right next to him.


End file.
